The Battle For Everything
by Invader Nence
Summary: When one of the CSI's is attacked, everything changes... Slash NickGreg, and GilGreg!
1. The Attack

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Title: The Battle for Everything  
**Authoress:** invader Nence, formally: Give the World for Mr. Black  
**Rating:** R.   
**Warning:** Slash. Harsh language (at spots). Pain. (Hints at rape.)  
**Pairings:** Nick/Greg, Nick/Gris, and Gris/Greg.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything! ::Sob::  
**Dedication:** To Amanda, my dearest fan, who would never abandon me… even for a better fic! Love ya!

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A/N: This is plainly a work of my imagination… Some things that were mentioned in the show were brought into this, but most of it is my speculation I have when I watch the show! Thanks. Review for me! Always---Invader Nence.

**__**

NEW INFORMATION!!!! REVIEWERS AND READERS!!! ATTENTION!!!

There has been a problem with my program, and I have not been able to save the next few chapters… Please be patient as I deal with the idiotic computer that haunts my life! ::Sweatdrop:: Yes, this will get updated; soon, hopefully! Stick with me, and take notice to any updates I post… they will be authoress-notes in the first chapter, since ff.net is not letting me post separate chapters as A/N's… Thank you for your patience, and wish me luck!!

Always,

-Invader Nence-

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Chapter One: The Attack!

"Nick Stokes… I'm with the Crime Lab…" It was how he started all of his introductions nowadays. Work was all he managed to accomplish lately, and it was mostly busy work. In fact, the case he was on was the first major one he'd had in almost two weeks---the rape and murder of a young couple at their beach house.

Now, he was at one of the victims' grandmother's house and the white-haired lady stood warily, eyeing him carefully. "Oh," was all the elderly woman said, before opening her screen door. "Why are you here?"

Nick made his way into the comfortably-furnished house, taking in his surroundings. 

"I… I have some news…" He had conveniently left out the word 'bad'.

"Oh."

'It must be her only response,' he thought sadly. "Well," Nick began, pulling the small card out of his bag.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked casually.

"No, thank you, ma'am… I have lots of work to do… Rather, would you mind taking a look at this driver's license and tell me if you recognize the woman in this picture?" He held out the plastic card gingerly, not really wanting the answer he was sure would come.

The lady gasped when she saw the face, "My Charlotte!" He nodded, letting her grasp the card.

"Ma'am," he said gently, "is this Charlotte Mortison?"

"Yes, sir! Where is she? Where have you taken her?! Where's my girl?!"

Nick took a deep breath, "Ma'am… Is she missing?"

"Yes! No one has seen her or heard from her in three days! Where is she?! Have you seen her? Do you know what's happened to my girl?"

"I need to ask you a few questions first, if I may… You might not be in the state of mind to answer them after I tell you where she is," his voice was calm as he took her free hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You know where my Char is?" After he nodded, she spoke softly, "If you promise to tell me where she is, I will answer your questions…"

"I promise, ma'am… Now, Charlotte… She had a boyfriend, correct? A… Gregory Pike?"

"Yes… Greggy and she were very serious… dating for over two years now…" Nick gulped at her nickname for the young man. 'Snap out of it, Stokes! Gil told you never to get emotional with a victim!'

"Ma'am… did they ever fight?" The M.E. had found severe bruising that had occurred a few months before the attack.

A smile crossed the aging woman's face and the Texan could see she was relaxing. "Why, heavens no! Never! They were perfect… although, my dear Rose… that would be Char's mother… she thought that Greg had a rough streak… she would always find broken bottles at their apartment… but, Greg… he never drank… Never!" Nick's mind went blank as his post-cognition began…

__

The couple had been arguing--something they NEVER did around their parents… Greg had broken his bottle over the counter… explaining the marks around the edge… Charlotte had flipped out at him, and he came at her with the bottle… explaining the marks around her wrists and forearms… One thing didn't add up… the lack of shattered glass… if he really did_ do it, where was the-------_

"Mr. Stokes?"

"Yes'm?" He broke out of his thoughts.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asked quietly.

"One more thing… Could I take a look at their apartment?"

"Of course… just please, is my Char alright?"

"Not exactly," he sighed. "She, and Gregory… They… They were murdered…" The white-haired lady's jaw dropped as her gasp echoed. Her hand groped the air as she fought for a deep breath. "Ma'am?"

"My Char… and her Greggy… Murdered? But, why? Who would do this?!"

"Mrs. Mortison… this is what I intend to find out…" Tears dripped down her wrinkled cheeks as she tried to soak in all of the information that had been thrown at her. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"A tissue? They're over by the television…" He got up silently and handed her the box, letting her control her emotions. "Sir… can you tell me anything else?"

"Not much… but I _can_ tell you that any information you have may lead us to her killer…" The grandmother nodded.

"Of course… here's the address to their apartment…" She grabbed a piece of paper from her telephone stand and scribbled on it, handing it over the Crime Scene Investigator.

"Thank you, ma'am… as soon as we have _any_ information, you'll be the first to know… I promise…"

"Thank _you_…"

~~*~~

As soon as he was safely outside, Nick let the tears he had held in flow gently out of his eyes. This poor young man and woman would never go on anymore dates together. They'd never again walk hand-in-hand down a moonlit shoreline. They'd never have another chance at love.

Nick's past relationships had been hindering his future love-life. All of his ex-girlfriends had been close friends first and their dating had lasted for endless months. Then the spark would burn out and all they'd have left were the friendly memories. Nick refused to date anyone from work also, so that narrowed down the field even more, since he spent at least 18 hours everyday at the lab. Sure, he had friends there----Grissom, Catherine, Warrick, and even Sarah had become like a second family to him, since he had left most of his real family in Texas to pursue his career in forensic science. Plus, he always had Greg, his lab-rat, who spent just about the same amount of hours in the lab as he did. In the past months, they'd become close friends, who kept each other from the complete insanity that came from working nonstop.

In fact, they ate an early dinner around four-thirty in the afternoon that Greg brought when he joined Nick, who started at three, in the lab. At ten-thirty, the next morning, when they left work, they'd go down the street to a small diner, Nick's treat.

It had been their routine for the past month, except when Grissom handed out cases last night. Nick had been given a solo on this case and he'd been working since nine PM. He'd even had to bail on his daily breakfast with Greg to head to the beach-house. Grissom had said he wanted everyone back in the lab by six to go over evidence.

Nick checked his watch, using his sleeve to wipe away the stray tears. Five-thirty. On a normal day, Greg would've already brought a bag from the local Burger King with him to the ice-cold lab and they'd be processing their DNA together. Nick licked his lips, thinking about the smell of the Super-Sized Whopper.

"I've still got places to go," the Texan said to no one in particular. Hopping into his SUV, he started the engine and pulled into the street, heading for the apartment in the city, a good twenty minutes away.

~~*~~

Nick was standing at the locked door, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, and his fist lightly on the door. He was at the end of a long hallway, mad at the idea that his lead might be locked behind this door.

"Good luck getting in there," a wispy voice from behind him said. Nick jumped at the sudden presence of another person. He turned around to see a wiry old lady with thinning grey hair. "No one's been there for two days…"

"Who are _you_?"

"Me?" she asked. "Me… Well, I'm the Landlady of this complex…"

"Okay," Nick relaxed noticeably. "How do you know no one's been there..?"

"I was curious yesterday afternoon when no one had come to pick up their mail yet… Charlotte, the girl… she always came by at exactly eleven-thirty before she went on her run…"

"Everyday?" Nick questioned, taking mental notes.

"To a tee… I planned my time around that young woman!" the Landlady chuckled. "Around six, I checked again, but the mail was gone… I figure, the man comes home at six, maybe the girl's sick and _Greg_ picked up the mail… I didn't think nothing of it until around ten PM…"

"Why ten?"

"My apartment is right there." The aging woman pointed up at the ceiling. "You can hear them, every night, at nine-thirty… That couple was like clockwork!"

"What do you mean?" Nick furrowed his brow. " 'You can _hear_ them'?"

"Yelling," the woman said calmly. "About everything under the sun…"

"They fought?"

"Now, sir… I don't want to give you the wrong impression of these people… Every morning at nine, the man would leave for work. The girl was a late sleeper… around eleven, she'd wake up, get the mail, and run… She'd be back by one. Sometimes, she'd go to her friend's… Julie something… But, whenever they were together… from six until eleven at night… They'd ague… Oh, no, that dear man would never hit her… he loved her… But, they'd argue over the stupidest things… Television shows, food, chores… They were sweet people, they never complained, they paid the rent… They were the perfect tenants…" As she finished her speech, a faint smile crossed her lips. "They were the other tenants' worst nightmare, though… I never had more complaints about anyone else!"

"Ma'am… Thank you for all your information… Then, there is no way to get into their apartment?" The white-haired lady shrugged.

"There's another key," a low, harsh voice rasped from down the hallway. Nick's jumpy demeanor returned when he saw the dark grey eyes that belonged to the burly man walking casually closer.

"Sir? Who are you?" Nick asked, trying to shake the twitchy feeling he got looking into the cold eyes.

"I'm one of the complainers," he said simply.

"Oh, stop it, Jimmy!" the lady scolded playfully, a genuine smile plastered on her face. "This is my great-nephew, Jimmy Keller!"

"Nick Stokes," the Texan greeted plainly.

Jimmy grunted a response, "It's great to meet you, Mr. _Stakes_, and by that I mean, good luck finding Charlotte and Greg…" The side of his mouth twitched. "I've got to be going…" With one last nod to his great-aunt, the surly man left.

"Sorry about him, Mr. Stokes… He was just laid off the police-force last week… He hasn't been in good company since…"

"It's fine, ma'am… but, he mentioned another key?"

"Now that you say something, I believe Greg always kept a key at their beach-house… They might even be there, even though they only spent a weekend or two there!" She was all-smiles.

"Maybe… Thank you, again, Ms…?"

"Pike… Jenna Pike…"

"Ms. Pike… thank you…"

"You're welcome, young man… Good luck!"

~~*~~

The late January air was very brisk as Nick started his SUV. He felt something wiggle in his pocket and pulled out his vibrating phone, flipping it open, "Nick Stokes."

"Get to the lab… It's already six-fifteen! Greg has some important evidence for you!" Grissom sounded aggravated and Nick knew better than to push him over the edge, even though he had a good two hours he could spend, completing the processing of his Crime Scene.

"I'll be there in five," he promised, closing his phone and pulling onto the main street. A maroon van pulled out of the apartment complex parking lot and drove slowly behind him. Nick paid no attention as the headlights followed him all the way to the parking lot at the lab.

~~*~~

__

"He's too close to figuring this out!" the driver of the van fumed. "I can't afford to get caught!" The van swerved behind the quickly moving SUV. Grabbing the ski-mask next to them, the figure pulled it over its face, parking the car two rows over from Nick's.

~~*~~

Nick sat in his car a moment, contemplating how to go about finding the key. Looking at the bright green digital clock, he noticed it was now six-thirty-seven and the sky was pitch black. The only light he had was the lonely street lamp that stood out in the center of the parking lot. Remembering his boss' angry tone, he turned off the engine and got out of the car, deliberately leaving his coat. After all, he might need an excuse to escape Gil's lengthy lectures.

Making his way through the rows of parked cars, Nick saw a shadowed figure heading the same direction as he was. Thinking it was just another lab tech late for a meeting, he smiled and walked a bit faster for the doors. Noticing a darker spot in the lot, he moved to the right, hoping to avoid it.

He never heard the footsteps come up behind him.

~~*~~

__

"I've got you now, Mr. Stokes…" Hurrying up behind the young CSI, he thrust his hands out, pushing on Nick's back, shoving him to the damp ground.

~~*~~

Nick did, however, feel the hands push violently on his back. And he felt the hard ground as his face fell roughly against the cold wetness of it. He whimpered, blood dripping from his cheek.

"Shut up," his attacker grunted. A hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up fiercely. "You're _never_ going to figure this out… Not after I'm through with you…"

Nick bit his bottom lip to keep from calling out, fearing more hurt. The pain that was already rushing though his head was enough. He felt rough skin near his waist, and before he knew it, the dark figure in behind him was unfastening his belt. Nick twitched, utterly afraid to move or make a sound. His attacker had his belt off already and was quick with the zipper on his pants.

"No," Nick muttered, closing his eyes. "Please, no…" He squirmed, feeling his pants drop to the wet ground.

"It's best if you don't move… It'll hurt less…" the deep voice warned.

"Joe… no… please…!" Nick whined, eyes opening and glazing over. His reflexes took over as the past took over him.

"Joe..? Is that your boyfriend?" the hoarse voice laughed at the vicious joke, pressing himself up against Nick. In the back of the Texan's mind, he registered his attacker as a man.

"No… I… this is wrong…" Nick was shaking now, fingers scraping the ground.

"No more wrong than murder, right?" Nick's boxers were slid down his slender legs as his bottom half was completely exposed. "You might want to kneel, Mr. Stokes…" Nick didn't move, only continued convulsing, memories overcoming him.

"No, Joe… no… This is bad… NO!" His scream echoed.

"Shut the fuck up, Nick! I have a gun and I am _not_ afraid to use it on a fag like you!" He shoved Nick hard in the back, forcing him to lay flat on the pavement.

"Oohhhh… please, no… You said it wouldn't hurt!" Nick was reaching hysteria, and fast.

"I never said it wouldn't hurt… I might be a killer, but I'm not a liar," he taunted, positioning himself over Nick, straddling him. He grabbed the tight fabric of Nick's shirt and pulled him into a kneeling position. "Get ready for the most intense feeling in your life…"

"No," Nick groaned. The memories were fading and reality was hitting him head-on. "Please… don't… I won't…"

"Too late… You got yourself involved with the wrong case…" The man leaned closer to Nick, breathing heavily in his ear.

"Please… stop…"

"No way…" He ran his hand along the small of Nick's back, making him twitch. Sliding his fingers lower, he stretched the taut skin on Nick's back end. Nick whimpered, remembering every moment in his past. "Enjoy yourself, Mr. Stokes…" He added another finger, causing the CSI to scream out in pain.

"Stop!"

"I said… SHUT UP!" This was the attacker's first mistake. He took no notice to the front door of the lab opening and Sarah walking casually out of building. She turned her head quickly, not seeing the two, but hearing Nick's voice loud and clear.

"Nick? Nick?! Are you there?!" Sarah's voice was like an angel to Nick's pain.

"Sarah," he choked out almost silently as his attacker added another finger.

"If you don't stop talking, I'm just gonna go ahead with it," he hissed, careful to keep his voice down now. "Relax!"

Nick howled in pain, as another finger was added to the mix.

"Nick!" Sarah ran over, looking around intently. "Nick!!"

"If that girl comes over here," he warned. But Sarah was out of their view. Nick could hear her voice softly in the distance, but all he could feel was the pain searing through every inch of his existence. The pain that had overcome everything else in the moment, and was taking over his mind.

Quiet sirens echoed from down the road, startling Nick's attacker enough for him to move his hands. The agony had returned as his antagonist twisted his hands away from Nick. "That _bitch_! She called the fuckin' cops!" Nick could feel the blood dripping down the back of his legs, as the man stood and pushed Nick back into the wet pavement. "This is not the last you've seen of me," he promised, running for his car.

Nick reached up and groped the air, voice raspy, "Sarah!"

"Nick? That you?" she called, following his voice.

Nick tried to hide himself as she came into view, but only managed to find some ripped cloth from his boxers. "Sarah," he called out weakly.

"I'm coming… keep talking," she ordered gently.

"I'm right here… you're getting close… walk to you left…" Her eyes widened as she spotted him.

"Nick? That you?" She knelt beside him. "God, you look horrible!" She reached out to touch his hair, but he cringed and looked away, hurt.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"I called the cops… and an ambulance should be here soon…"

"Gris is mad at me, isn't he?"

"It doesn't matter now…" Just then, a paramedic with a flashlight came up right behind Sarah and shined the bright beam at Nick's bloody figure.

"Sir? Ma'am?" he said, taking in the situation. "Sir? Do you need medical attention?"

Nick nodded, "Yes…"

"Alright… ma'am? Help me get him on a stretcher?" As they managed to let Nick lean on them as a stretcher was wheeled over, the door to the lab building slammed open, Greg emerging with a worried look on his face.

Glancing at Nick's bloody, mangled body, his jaw dropped and he began walking toward him, as they strapped him tightly to the stretcher. "Nick?" he mouthed, picking up his pace to a sprint as they began taking him to the ambulance. "NICK!" he screamed.

"Greggy," Nick's voice was soft, but the lab tech still felt it. The look on his face was pure horror as the pain of the situation took him over the edge and unconsciousness took over.

~~*~~

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TBC…

A/N: The ending is Amanda's fault… lol. Love ya, hun! Review… ^_^ This is gonna be long and angsty… I have the first 40 chapters planned out, and I plan on working on this. ^_^ If you review, I'll love you forever! ^_^ LOL! =D ~*Invader Nence*~


	2. Hospital Visits

**Title:** The Battle for Everything  
**Authoress:** Nicki  
**Rating:** R.  
**Warning:** Slash. Harsh language (at spots). Pain. (Hints at rape.)  
**Pairings:** (Main!) Nick/Greg and Gris/Greg.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything:Sob:  
**Dedication:** To the over 1200 reads on this story when it was posted on slashfanfiction! You guys rock!

**A/N:** Hey, everyone! Here's the long awaited second chapter! It's mostly uneventful (compared to the first chapter. )... It's a transitive chapter, more or less... Enjoy! And review! Nicki

(PS: wouldn't let me put an asterix for the breaks, so now there is a lines... Good luck!)

**Chapter Two**: Hospital Visits

Everything was black. It had been for as long as he could remember. He couldn't move a limb. He could feel however. _Oh_, how he could feel.

The pain shooting up his torso and head was screaming, "Kill me now!" And that was only his top half. His entire lower body was on fire. Pain flowed through his veins.

* * *

"Doc, how long 'til he regains consciousness?" Sara inquired from the third doctor.

"Miss Sidle, as the other two physicians have told you," Doctor Brown said impatiently, "that is not up to us anymore. That's completely up to him." She gestured through the window to the closed hospital room, where Nick's still body had been laying for almost a day.

"Thank you," Sara said, less than appreciatively. The doctor nodded and walked down the hall to her other patients.

Footsteps behind her startled Sara. She turned around to face a somber Catherine.

"Hey, Sara," she mumbled, sipping her coffee with great care.

Sara nodded, "Where's Grissom?"

"Back at headquarters still," Catherine said, obviously hinting at an underlying situation.

"Well, what is he doing _there_!" Sara growled, "One of his best, most talented, and caring CSI's is lying unconscious in a hospital!"

"I didn't know you and Nick were so close," Catherine observed.

"We're not," Sara grunted. "I _found_ him, Catherine."

"Oh." After an extensive and awkward silence, Sara became her nosey self again,

"So, why ISN'T Gil here?"

"Well, look at the situation from his position, Sara. Nick was late for the meeting and Grissom had been harping on him. Nick rushes into the meeting and doesn't worry about anything besides making sure Gris won't yell at him anymore. Instead of getting chewed out by your supervisor, you get attacked and raped? How would you feel if you were Grissom?"

"But this is NOT his fault...Grissom KNOWS that!" Sara ranted.

"Does he?" Catherine raised a perfect eyebrow.

Heavy footsteps approached the small group outside Nick's room. Sara and Catherine turned around and ended their conversation.

"Hey, Warrick," Catherine greeted the newest visitor.

"How are you feeling?" Sara asked.

"Better than Nick," Warrick answered with a half-smile. Both women glared disapprovingly.

Just then, Nick's hospital bathroom door opened, causing all three CSI's to turn around suddenly. The sight amazed them.

It was Greg---peppy lab rat. Except, without the pep.

Greg's normally bright and gleaming eyes were swollen and red, and his hair was a tangled mess. Shadows of facial hair were visible along his jaw line and upper lip. His clothes from the night before were disheveled and wrinkled. A stranger could have mistaken Greg for a homeless man.

"Greg?" Sara frowned. The lab tech pulled a chair next to Nick and laid his head on the bed.

"Sara," Catherine began, "I think we need to leave Greg alone for a little while." She squeezed her fellow CSI's arm reassuringly. Warrick draped an arm around Sara's shoulders.

"I think Cath is right. Greggo needs to be alone right now..."

"But he's NOT alone! Nick is there," she protested.

"Exactly," Catherine murmured.

* * *

Greg sank into the cushioned metal hospital chair with a deep sigh. It had been almost 24 hours since Nick's attack. Greg had to choke back a sob.

Nick's attack.

It was still unbelievable. And _Sara_ had found him. Incredibly, Greg was jealous. 'It shouldn't matter who found him, just that he's safe,' Greg mused, 'But it would've been nice to be Nick's hero...'

Greg laid his head on the bed next to Nick's still body. The lab tech looked completely deflated. _Nick_ looked more alive than Greg did.

"Nick," the tousled lab rat moaned, "you need to wake up. You can't die on me now. The graveyard shift _needs_ you. _I_ need you!"

* * *

"What do you think is going on in there?" Sara continued her pacing in the waiting room where Catherine had moved the three of them until Greg left the hospital room.

"I think Greg is grieving for Nick," Catherine said from her spot on the stiff couch next to the coffee machine.

"Yeah, they _have_ been getting closer, haven't they?" Warrick noted.

"They have dinner at the lab all the time. I can smell Greg's fast food a mile away!" Sara grinned, taking a place in a chair.

"I think it's good...for both of them. Greg never talks about his family, so I don't think they're that close. And Nick left all of his family in Texas so he could pursue forensic science. It's good that they're friends. They both need someone they can rely on." Catherine said matter-of-factly.

"It's amazing how much you DON'T know about the people you work with," Warrick said nonchalantly.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Jane. Are you three the ones with Nick Stokes?" A young female doctor had appeared from around the corner. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail at the base of her neck and her blue eyes looked as though they normally shined---when not at the end of a long shift.

Sara stood, "Yes. Do you have news?"

The doctor nodded, "Now, normally I'm not supposed to share this information, but since you're obviously close, and he has no family locally... not to mention that you guys are probably going to need the basics in your investigation... I think it's important to disclose the facts."

"Get on with it," Sara snarled. She added a fake smile and a quick, "please."

Doctor Jane grinned, oblivious to Sara's tone, "Okay. Your friend Nick has a concussion and a broken rib, probably from a strong force to his back. He also has suffered severe shock from the attack. There seems to be signs of a sexual assault in his childhood, but we can't be sure until he wakes up and can talk to us. Other than that, we're just waiting for him to regain consciousness. Any questions?"

Catherine tuned out the others to think about Nick's attack. 'It must've been horrible for him,' she thought somberly. 'This could only have brought back memories of his childhood assault. He's tried to forget about Joe, but this must have brought everything back... Poor Nick, he---'

"Cath? Cath?" Warrick tapped her shoulder.

"Huh?" she snapped out of her reverie. "Oh, sorry."

"Doctor Jane said Nick can have visitors in his room now," Sara said.

"But what about--" Catherine couldn't finish her question. Sara shook her head and shrugged it off. "Oh."

The three CSI's shuffled in silence to Nick's sterile room.

* * *

Greg heard the door open before he heard the footsteps. He jerked his head up from Nick's bed just in time to see Catherine, Warrick, and Sara walk into the room.

"Hey, Greggo," Warrick grinned. "How you holding up?"

"Fine," he mumbled, trying to smooth out his clothes.

"How's Nick?" Catherine wondered.

"Fine," Greg seemed to enjoy that response. "The doctors say all we can do is wait. The rest is up to Nick." The lab tech glanced over at the still body next to him.

"Greg," Sara finally said, not looking directly at either men.

"Sara," he greeted with little enthusiasm. Greg thought back to when he and Sara first met. He had had a massive crush on her, and her dedication to work. However, after being turned down time after time, he gave up on his crush and settled for just being friends. It suited them better, Greg believed.

An awkward silence passed over the room, only broken by the entrance of Doctor Smith.

"Hello, everyone," the elderly doctor addressed the group. His greying hair mixed with his deep brown eyes, and easy smile reminded Greg of his grandfather. "I'm here to check on our friend, Nick."

"Greg, you might want to get out of the nice doctor's way," Warrick said with a smirk. The lab tech glared at him and slid his chair back from the bed.

"Thank you," Doctor Smith grinned. The aged man stepped next to the hospital bed and checked Nick's stats. "BP is fine. Breathing is regular. He just needs to wake up now."

"Thanks, Doc," Greg muttered sarcastically, "We already knew _that_..."

If Doctor Smith heard the lab rat, then it didn't bother him, because he showed no reaction. Catherine, however, was very shocked at Greg's new demeanor. "I'll leave you folks for now. I'll come check on him in a few hours. Give a ring if he shows any progress."

"Will do," Sara promised. The doctor smiled and left, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the doc was gone, Greg was back at Nick's side, "Well, wasn't _that_ an informative conversation..."

"Greg," Catherine started. "We know how hard this is on you, but you have to calm down. Antagonizing the doctors is NOT going to make Nick wake up any faster. And you _know_ that."

"You're not my mother, Cath. So, don't lecture me about what to do," Greg snarled. "Imagine if Lindsey was unconscious and the doctors just kept telling you 'oh, oh, just wait _patiently_...she'll be awake before you know it!' I can't see you just standing around going 'okay, I'll just be sitting here', can _you_?"

"Greg," Warrick sounded upset.

"No. You guys don't get it. Nick is _everything_ I've got. You guys have your family, and your friends. Well, Nick is it for me. He's my best friend, and I can NOT lose him." Everyone in the room was surprised by Greg's outburst, Greg most of all. The lab tech glanced at the ground and then Nick's unconscious body.

"Catherine, Warrick, I think we'd better leave Greg alone," Sara warned quietly. The grieving lab tech turned his stare to Sara.

"Why's that? Nick's important to you guys, right?"

"Well, yeah, Greg, but you're very...emotional right now. And, I, uh, think it's best to just...umm... leave you alone with Nick..." Sara was choosing her words very carefully.

"Well, Sara, if you think it's _best_..." Greg said sarcastically. The dark-haired CSI nodded gravely and walked toward the door.

"Come on, Catherine, Warrick. Let's get out of here." The other two CSI's followed like two lost puppy dogs.

* * *

Nick could hear their voices. First the doctor's. Apparently, he was okay. Just unconscious.

And then Greg's. He was crying, and telling Nick that he couldn't die. '_Who's dying?_' Nick wondered.

And then Catherine, Warrick, and Sara. They were all fairly quiet, until the doctor came back. He just told them the same thing he had told Greg earlier. That had made Greg angry.

Greg had said some...things. '_Am I really all he has? That must be the worst feeling in the world. At least I always have a family back in Texas, even if they were a little angry I left to study forensic science. Greg sounds so lonely..._'

And now he and Greg were alone. Together. '_What an oxymoron..._'

* * *

Greg had been sitting with Nick since the doctor and CSI's had left. A whopping 6 hours. He sighed and got up from his chair, heading for the door.

"Excuse me," he said, looking for a nurse or doctor, "_Excuse_ me!"

"Yes?" A young woman doctor peeked out from her office.

"Hi. My friend, Nick Stokes, is unconscious. Everyone keeps telling me to just wait around...but... Is there ANYTHING I can do to _maybe_ help him WANT to wake up?" Greg emphasized every other word to dramatize the already dramatic situation.

"Umm... mostly we just have to wait. I'm sorry, Mr. ...?"

"Sanders," Greg supplied. "And what do you mean, _mostly_?"

"Well, most doctors don't believe in these recovery techniques, but you sound... desperate. So, I assume you'll try anything."

Greg furrowed his brow at the doctor, "What kind of techniques?"

"Well, there is 'Shock Treatment'. That's probably the most popular. And 'Induced Trauma'..."

"What is 'Shock Treatment'?" Greg asked, torn between wanting Nick to wake up and potentially harming him.

"It's a pretty simple procedure. Just hook him up to an electric charge and send a small voltage to his heart. It kind of like jumpstarting a car," Doctor Jane grinned.

"I... I'm not sure I want to, uh, 'jump start' my friend..." Greg sounded very worried.

"Well, then there is always 'Induced Trauma', but that's usually pretty complicated.

"How does it work?"

"Well, this only works if the patient is unconscious due to a traumatic event...which Mr. Stokes is..."

"Okay?" Greg raised an eyebrow.

"Well, 'Induced Trauma' simply reenacts the traumatic event, which induces shock throughout the body. Then, the patient can be reached with a medicine called 'thebutine' which should wake them up. It's a 50/50 chance, but the thebutine erases the patient's memory of the induced trauma."

"What about the original situation?" Greg asked.

"What about it?"

"Would the patient forget it?"

"No," Doctor Jane frowned, "they would remember the original incident, but they would have no memory of the induced trauma."

"I think I'd feel better with the 'Shock Treatment', if only for the fact that he seemed pretty bent up over the first trauma."

"I understand. However, there is one problem... We need consent from the family. Unless you're the 'significant other', or the entire family is dead, you are not authorized to approve this, Mr. Sanders."

Greg grunted. "Are you _kidding_ me!"

"No, I'm afraid not. Is there any way for you to get a hold of his family?" Greg nodded slightly. "Then, I will be waiting in my office when you're ready."

"Thank you, Doctor."

* * *

Greg groaned. 'How am I supposed to get in touch with Nick's family? How does _he_ get in touch with his family..?'

Cell phone.

Greg took off in a sprint back to Nick's hospital room. 'His stuff has to be around here somewhere,' Greg pondered. Spotting Nick's forensics jacket draped across a chair, he searched the pockets frantically. 'Come on, baby. Come to mama...Yes!' Greg pulled out Nick's cell phone, waving it around.

Pressing a few buttons, he found the phone number for "Mom" with an area code Greg didn't recognize. "Must be Texas," Greg muttered. Dialing the number quickly, Greg took a deep breath while it was ringing.

"Hello?" a Southern drawl flowed through the phone line, relaxing Greg a little bit.

"Hi, yes... Is this Mrs. Stokes?" Greg asked carefully.

"Why, yes, dear... It is. May I ask who is calling?"

Greg took another deep breath and concentrated on the sweet, mellifluous sound of Nick's mother's voice. The drawl was soothing and it made him think of Nick's faint accent. "This is Greg Sanders. I work with your son, Nick."

"Oh, Nicky! You're a friend of his?"

"Yes, Mrs. Sanders... I am."

"Well, what's on your mind, Mr. Sanders?" Nick's mom was very pleasant, Greg decided.

"Mrs. Stokes, I'm sorry that I have to inform you of this, but I need your permission for something."

"Did something happen to my Nicky?" she sounded very worried. Her voice lost that tranquil touch.

"Mrs. Stokes, your son is unconscious right now. He was attacked and...sexually assaulted."

"Oh, my--" Greg could hear Nick's mother break down into sobs, muttering something that sounded like 'Joe', but he couldn't quite be sure.

"Mrs. Stokes, the doctors have an idea to help wake him up, but they need your permission."

"My, God, was it Joe who did this?" Obviously, Nick's mom was in her own little world, and she hadn't heard a word Greg had said after 'your son is unconscious.'

"We're not sure who did this, but we're hoping to find out soon." Greg frowned. 'Who's Joe?'

"It had to have been Joe," Mrs. Stokes was still stuck on this mystery man. "Who else would've done this to my little boy!" She was on the edge of hysteria and Greg had to bring her back long enough to get permission for the 'Shock Treatment.'

"Mrs. Stokes. I'm sure we'll look into this Joe, but for now, I need your help. To save Nick."

This must've reached her, because she answered immediately, "What do you need, Mr. Sanders?"

"I need your permission to have a treatment plan performed on your son," Greg said calmly.

"Sure, whatever it takes. Just make sure my Nicky is okay, please," Mrs. Stokes seemed to have regained her composure and her drawl was back. It was a reassuring sound.

"Let me get the doctor so that you can tell her, okay?"

"I'll wait." Greg ran to Doctor Jane's office and handed her the phone.

"Doctor, Nick's mother is on the phone. She's ready to give you permission." Greg thrust the phone at her, almost frenetically.

"Mrs. Stokes?" There was a pause. 'Nick's mom must be talking,' Greg considered. "Yes, thank you. We'll keep you informed." Doctor Jane hung up and handed the phone back to Greg.

"Thank you, Doctor," Greg murmured.

"Mrs. Stokes said to have you call her after the therapy."

"I will... Can you perform the 'Shock Treatment' now?" The doctor nodded and stood slowly.

"I have to remind you, this is a painful experience to watch. I recommend waiting with your friends in the waiting room."

'My friends!' Greg had completely forgotten about the other CSI's at the moment. With all of the excitement of the last hour, it had slipped his mind. "Thank you. Will you page me when the procedure is over, and I can see him?"

"Of course." Doctor Jane's grin was friendly and reassuring.

"Good luck, Doc," Greg smiled for the first time in a long time.

* * *

"Greg!" Warrick was the first to notice his arrival in the waiting room a few minutes after leaving Nick in the hands of Doctor Jane.

"Hi, guys." He sounded kind of sheepish. "Look, Cath, I want to apologize. I was totally out of line earlier."

"Greg, I understand. You're upset and worried. I forgive you, don't worry," Catherine grinned and put an arm around the lab tech.

"Sorry, to you too, as well," Greg looked at Warrick and Sara. "I was a little out of control in there."

"We get it, Greg," Sara smiled stiffly. "Nick means a lot to you."

"Speak of the devil, what's goin' on with him, Greg?" Warrick mentioned.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you. He's getting a therapy right now... It should wake him up... The doctor is gonna come get me when it's over."

"That's good news, Greggo!" Warrick smiled. Nothing ever seemed to get him down for long.

"Yeah," Greg glanced back at Nick's room. "Actually, I think I'm gonna go check it out, if no one minds. I'd like to be there when he wakes up."

Catherine smirked, "Why don't you come get us when he's up for company, okay?"

"Thanks, guys. For everything." Greg sighed. "You made this a lot easier for me."

"No problem, Greg. Now go get'm," Warrick joked.

Greg took a deep breath and began walking toward Nick's hospital room.

'What if he doesn't wake up, Sanders?'

'Don't think like that! He's GOING to wake up... and everything's gonna go back to normal. Just you wait and see!'

'You better be right...'

By the time he was done arguing with himself, he was at the large window of Nick's room. Glancing inside, he saw Doctor Jane and a few nurses bent over Nick. A large battery was hooked to two tubes, connected to Nick's chest.

Greg pushed the door open and walked as calmly as possible over to the bed, or at least as close as he could get with the medical staff crowded around the patient. Doctor Jane handed a remote to one of the nurses and turned to Greg.

"Mr. Sanders... Couldn't stay away?"

"No, Doc," Greg smiled. "Couldn't."

"Just as well. He should be awake soon."

Greg had to hide his happiness. He felt like hopping and singing, but he had to control himself. He had to restrain. There would be a time for hopping and singing, but not right now.

A groaning from the bed broke Greg away from his celebration plans. "Nick?" Greg rushed over to his friend's side, pushing a couple of nurses to the side. "Are you awake?" The remaining nurses stepped to one side, allowing Greg full access to Nick's bedside.

"Greg?" Nick's voice was hoarse. His eyelids began to flutter and Greg grabbed a hold of the Texan's hand.

"Yeah, it's me." Greg had to suppress his tears. 'I can't believe I almost lost him... what would I have done without him?'

"What happened?" By now, the nurses had all left and Doctor Jane was just monitoring Nick's vitals.

"How much do you remember?" Greg asked quietly.

"Too much... Some guy attacked me, and..." Nick broke eye contact with Greg and the lab rat could see tears forming in his eyes.

"It's okay, Nick. It's all over now..." Greg soothed, smoothing Nick's hair back.

"Okay," Nick's eyelids closed slightly and he moved closer to Greg. "If...you say so..."

"Go to sleep, Nick. We can talk when you wake up, alright?" Nick nodded and closed his eyes.

"Good night, Greg."

" 'Night, Nick..."

**TBC...**

A/N: Second chapter! Longer than I expected actually. I couldn't find anything to add and I was afraid that it would be REALLY short... Then I just went with it. Now it's longer than Chapter 1! YAY! Well, I'm done!

REVIEW! (Hope this was worth the wait!)

Nicki!


	3. In the Closet

**Title:** The Battle for Everything  
**Authoress:** Nicki  
**Rating:** R.  
**Warning:** Slash. Harsh language (at spots). Pain. (Hints at rape.)  
**Pairings:** (Main!) Nick/Greg and Gris/Greg.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything!  
**Dedication:** To the over 1200 reads on this story when it was posted on slashfanfiction! You guys rock!

**A/N:** W00t! Now I really want to work on this fic! I have the whole thing planned out, so here goes! Chapter 3! A little (WAY! ) shorter, but not bad at all! I think... heh-heh...  
-Nicki!  
( Fanfic STILL wont let me use an asterix to separate sections...so the line is there... still...)

**Chapter Three: In the Closet**

"Nick, I got your breakfast!" Greg hopped into the room with a brown Burger King bag. "If anyone asks, it's mine!"

"And if the nurses smell it on my breath?" Nick joked, grabbing the Cinna-buns from Greg.

The lab rat laughed, "Then you'll have to tell everyone you were making out with someone who had Cinna-buns for breakfast!" Nick grinned.

It had been two days since Nick had regained consciousness and it had been a very fun two days at that. Greg had taken a few days off of work to stay with Nick. Catherine, Sara, and Warrick had all come to check up on their fellow CSI.

The only one who hadn't visited Nick yet was Grissom. Catherine had said he was busy. Warrick and Sara didn't talk about it. Nick had asked about it only once, but Greg had shrugged it off.

Nick and Greg went through the next four days like the past two. Greg would get up before Nick and go to Burger King to get Nick some Cinna-buns for breakfast. They would watch TV all day. Lunch was at the hospital, but dinner was Burger King again--just like old times. After Nick fell asleep, Greg would sleep in the chair next to him and wake up in time to get Burger King for breakfast.

However, on the sixth day--a week after Nick's attack--the cycle was broken...

* * *

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find Nick Stokes?" Gil Grissom asked the head nurse at the desk. 

"I'm sorry. I don't recognize you. You haven't visited him yet, have you?"

"Uh, no, I haven't..." Grissom was startled. Would they not let him in?

"He's had a few visitors. I think there's one with him right now, actually." The nurse smiled and pointed down the hall. "Sixth one on the left."

Grissom nodded. "Thank you." Gil started down the hallway, until he caught sight of Greg, leaving the bathroom. Grissom raised his hand, "Greg!"

The lab tech spun around upon hearing his name. Greg's newly-restores pep dissolved as he approached his supervisor.

"Hi, Greg," Gil began. The lab rat grabbed the fabric of Grissom's shirt and pulled him into the open linen closet m closing the door. He flipped the light switch and the glow illuminated his angry stare. "Greg, what are you DOING!"

"How DARE you show up here!" Greg snapped.

"What do you mean?" Gil questioned.

"I mean, you don't bother to shop up here while your best CSI is UNCONSCIOUS, but you'll show up after he's fine! What's wrong with you, Grissom? I mean, I know you don't get people. You get bugs, you get DNA, but when it comes to people, you're oblivious!"

"Greg, could YOU come visit someone you put in the hospital?" Gil asked, completely stoic.

"You didn't put him in the hospital, Grissom! Some psycho attacker did!" Greg was fuming.

"But he wouldn't have been in he parking lot then if I hadn't yelled at him," Gil countered.

"This wasn't a random attack. According to Nick, this was planned. His attacker taunted him with his name, you know!" Greg was practically smoking. "Oh, wait. You wouldn't know! You've been hiding like a coward. Avoiding Nick like the plague. Did you think you'd never see him again? He's going to come back to work."

"I know," Gil said, during the one second Greg took a breath.

"He's gonna come back and he's gonna solve this case. Because he's the best you've got, Grissom. He's the best damn CSI there is!"

Greg had to stop there. Not because he didn't have more to say. Not because he needed a breath. In fact, not voluntarily at all.

Gil had shut him up. With a kiss. A hard, passionate kiss.

Gris' lips were nothing like expected. They were not hard and shy. In fact, they were soft and friendly. And Greg's reaction was not like expected, as well. He responded. And he _enjoyed_ it.

Blame it on the fatigue from spending a week at the hospital. Blame it on the fact that this lab tech hadn't been kissed like this for over six months--contrary to the stories he told his coworkers. Blame it on whatever you wanted--Greg was kissing Gil in a linen closet.

Obviously, this revelation dawned on the lab rat because he suddenly pulled away from his supervisor and caught his breath.

"What are you DOING!" Greg accused.

"You're right.. I don't understand people. But I DO understand how to shut you up." Gil said, trying to hide he mysterious smile he got whenever he understood something no one else did.

Greg winced, _'This is insane! Gris is my supervisor! I can NOT be sneaking around, kissing him in linen closets!' _

'Shut up! That's NOT what you were doing! You were yelling at him for now visiting Nick!'

'Nick...' Greg felt a tear form in his eye.

'Yeah, Nick... remember? Your best friend? The only one who's stood by you through EVERYTHING? The one you really care about and might even love... Yeah, Nick.'

Greg gulped, "We can't say anything, Gris."

"This isn't high school, Greg," Gil chided. "I'm not going to brag to all my friends that I kissed Greg Sanders."

"I mean it! Nick would be devastated!" Greg had said it before he could think.

'You wish, Sanders,' Greg reminded himself.

"Why?"

"Because..." The lab rat had to think of something and fast, before Gil started to wonder. "Because... Nick... he's not too fond of you right now. How do you think he'd feel about his best friend kissing someone who abandoned him?" Greg groaned inwardly. He never was one for the English language, let alone excuses.

"Best friend, huh?"

"Yeah." The lab tech looked at his feet.

An awkward silence.

"Fine," Gris said finally.

"Fine?" Greg glanced at him.

"Yes, Greg... I won't say anything..."

Another silence.

"We should get out of here," Gil reminded the lab tech.

"Tell Nick I went to Burger King and I'll be back in a few minutes," Greg said, sounding like his pep was disappearing again.

"Will do." Gil sounded his normal stolid self. "You go first. I'll be out in a few."

* * *

Greg was on his way out to his car before he ever had a chance to think. 

"You don't love Nick," he said to himself. "You can't. Love is for romantics. You, Sanders, are a bona-fide playa." Greg laughed.

'Yeah, right.'

* * *

Greg pulled his car up to the speaker at the Burger King drive-thru. 

"Burger King. Can I help you?" a voice crackled. At least Greg hoped that was what they said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I have a super-sized Whopper with a Coke," Greg always ordered Nick's dinner first.

"Will that be all, sir?" the voice sputtered again.

"No. Can I have a double-cheeseburger value meal--no mustard, extra pickles--with a Dr. Pepper?" Greg smiled, thinking about a joke he wanted to tell Nick later, over dinner.

"Is that it?" the voice buzzed through the speaker.

"Can I also get two sundaes, one with caramel and one with hot fudge?" Greg paused. "Make that three sundaes...the last plain."

"That all?"

"Yes," Greg muttered.

"Your total is $12.89. Please drive up to the second window."

* * *

Greg glanced at his watch, as he walked up to the hospital. 7:02. He was late. 

Picking up his pace, he ran past the nurses' station, where the head nurse smiled at his Burger King bag.

Stopping at Nick's room, he quickly looked through the big glass window. And stopped dead in his tracks.

There, in HIS chair, was Grissom. And there, in Nick's bed, was Nick. Smiling, and as happy as could be.

"I thought you were mad at Gris," Greg mumbled. turning away from Nick's room. "Guess not."

The lab rat sighed and dropped the Burger King bag in the trash on his way out of the hospital.

* * *

TBC...

A/N: So, what'cha think? It WAS shorter, but I liked the ending where it was.

Hope you enjoyed.

Please review!

Nicki-


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